


to mark something

by redhoodedwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, M/M, No Spoilers, Slow Build, Slow build at a fast pace, Starts in S1, Tattooed Stiles, Tattoos, also earings, because he looks so fine in them, i guess?, lots and lots of tattoos, then goes on through the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoodedwolf/pseuds/redhoodedwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He got the first one for Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to mark something

**Author's Note:**

> I got photoshop so this happened sorry not sorry  
> All the credit for the tattoos can be found on my tumblr

He got the first one for Scott.

It was more of a symbolic thing than a personal want to have a permanent drawing on his skin. A month after Scott was bit, so was he. He went two towns over to get it done, a simple design of a bite mark made by large jaws on his right hip, blood red tinted. 

The next day at school, Stiles was sporting his own bandage, and proudly showed Scott the new tattoo before class started. 

"But dude... you hate needles," Scott murmured admonished as Stiles reapplied the bandage tape and patted his shirts back down on top of them. 

Stiles shrugged. "A little discomfort was worth it. Just know you're not alone, dude."

Scott's smile made it all worthwhile. 

*

He got his second tattoo a week after getting his ears pierced. 

It was the summer and he was bored, okay? He passed time fiddling away at his computer, finishing his summer reading requirements within a week, keeping Scott occupied, and bothering Derek.

No one really knew he and Derek met up sometimes, but nobody really asked. They didn't do much. One time they had just stared at each other for about 20 seconds before getting up and leaving. 

Derek went with him to get his ears pierced, though.

He'd spotted Stiles' tattoo one day while the teen had stretched his arms over his head, and wanted to know more. So when Stiles expressed interest in going to the same place to get his ears pierced (he'd read quite a few articles earlier that week that talked about how nice they looked, and browsing through some pictures convinced Stiles that, yeah, they were pretty hot, according to the party in his pants as well), Derek offered to come along.

Derek slapped his hands away from the pinking lobes that were aching from the force of the needle. "Don't mess with them, you might rip the skin," he reprimanded. 

Stiles huffed. "I did my research, Derek. You're supposed to be able to turn them. That's how you see if anything is getting infected or crusty, which, ew- alongside cleaning them twice a day with rubbing alcohol," Stiles recited.

Derek had just rolled his eyes and placed his attention back onto the road.

Stiles liked to pretend he didn't decide to get another tattoo because of Derek. It wasn't all because of Derek, though, he was just the main incentive.

And maybe choosing an intricate pattern had something to do with Derek too- the more appointments he had to make to have it completed, the more time he spent with Derek.

Stiles tried not to over think that.

The tattoo turned out beautifully, the dark black lines of the howling wolf a contrast to his pale skin. It was going to be harder to hide this one from his dad, but what wasn't he hiding from him now a days? 

He didn't dwell on that thought much either.

*

Almost a full year passed before Stiles got another one. And that one hurt like a bitch, so much more painful that the wolf that curved up his right arm and shoulder. 

But it was totally worth it to see Scott, after he returned from a trip to the beach with his mom for a month, and to rip open his shirt with a fake growl, exposing the giant spider across his upper chest.

Scott's jaw dropped before he laughed, high and excited, clapping his hands together like a pleased child. "Dude! That's sick!"

Stiles grinned, dropping his hands. "I know, right? It hurt like a bitch to get done, though. Derek helped a bit, taking away my pain, at the start, but now that it's all healed, it looks totally bad ass."

Scott's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Derek, but thankfully said nothing. "Does your dad know about this one?"

Stiles winced. "He might have caught me leaving the shower one morning."

Scott hissed, "Ooooh. How'd he take it? I mean, he was cool with the ear piercings- if a bit perturbed- but still."

Stiles shrugged. "I got grounded. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he saw all  _three_  of them, and since I got my first at 16 without his consent... I was lucky he didn't 'haul my ass into a holding cell to rot for a week'. His words."

"Did anyone go with you? I know getting," he flung an arm around, "That done, I would have gripped someone's hand to death. And that's before the blow torch. Plus, your thing with needles."

Stiles scoffed. "Yeah, it sucked. But Derek was there to leech away the pain so it wasn't all that bad."

And there it was again, that name that still a year an a half later, set Scott on edge. "How nice of him," Scott said simply.

Stiles crossed his arms across his chest, closing up the gap from where his shirt was still flung open. "He's not bad anymore, you know that. He even volunteered to come. See?  _Nice_."

Scott sighed. "Whatever, dude. Let's make the most of what's left of the summer. You can regale me with more amazing stories of Derek's heroics while we play video games."

Scott thumped a stunned Stiles on the shoulder with a hand and passed him into the house. Stiles sputtered and trailed after him, shouting, "Acts of kindness, Scott!"

*

Halfway through his senior year, Stiles got the triskele tattoo on his right collarbone- Derek's favorite place to bite.

Stiles chose to surprise him with it. He'd come over to pick Stiles up for dinner, and maybe some foreplay, only to find a white bandage stark over his favorite scenting place. 

He whined, looking up at Stiles in confusion. "You got another tattoo?"

Stiles grinned. "Yep. Late 18th birthday present from dad. He said since I liked them so much he'd pay to get me a small simple one whenever I wanted to get another done. I cashed in yesterday."

Derek nosed his way over the bandage taking in the scent of skin and blood and ink. "You should have taken me with you. I would have helped with the pain. Something to focus on." He licked and sucked at Stiles' adam's apple, which plunged at the feeling, vibrating with a moan. He sucked Stiles' lobe into his mouth, teasing at the small diamond stud. Stiles drew in a ragged breath sharply. "Can I see it?"

Stiles shook his head quickly, stepping out of Derek's arms. "Nope. It's a surprise. Now come on, I don't want to miss our reservations." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Derek's lips. "Happy 6 months, by the way."

Derek rumbled his own affirmation before pressing back into the kiss.

They missed the dinner reservation, but got pizza instead. Stiles didn't mind all that much.

When the tattoo finally did heal, he teased Derek relentlessly over it, wearing a scarf to the next pack meeting, and when it got too hot to continue wearing it, wore a jacket that  _just_  covered up the majority, only a small curved black sliver left for Derek to see.

Once the pack had dispersed, Derek backed Stiles into the wall and tore off his jacket, eyes going alpha red as he saw the triskele. He ducked in a kissed it softly before teething at the skin, letting his fangs drop just to pinch at the skin- but not break it.

"Fuck- Derek," Stiles panted, hands scrabbling for purchase against Derek's shoulders. 

"You got my mark," Derek breathed, his warm breath ghosting over the abused skin as he lapped over the sensitive area with his tongue, a long broad strip that winded with the curves of the tattoo. He hummed from deep within his chest. "Now I see why you like my tattoo so much."

"Bedroom, now," Stiles demanded, shoving Derek off of him and snagging his wrist to drag him to the alpha's bed, where he fell onto the smooth sheets and continued to be ravished by the viscous yet loving touches of his boyfriend. 

*

The second to last tattoo he acquired when he graduated college. 

Lydia drew the design for him. He'd wanted something done by her artistic hand ever since he first saw her drawing the druid tree their junior year, wondering to himself what those lines of ink would look like against his skin.

She accompanied Derek with him to the parlor that time, to make sure the artist did everything right. No one was messing with Lydia's artistic genius of she had anything to say about it. 

The sleeve was comprised of substantial lines and shapes like gears. When Stiles asked Lydia why she'd chosen that design, she'd shrugged. 

"The cog that rests above your heart connects with the others. It's a working machine, a puzzle being solved. You're the pack brain, the thinker, the solver, the detective. You keep the cogs of our  _now_  well oiled machine running."

Stiles thought that that was probably the nicest thing she had ever said to him. 

The tattooing process was long, and considering Stiles was fresh out of school and unemployed, it pretty much drained his bank. It was painful, but not as bad as the one on his chest had been to get. Derek kept a finger or three against his skin at all times, and if it ever got too bad, he would subtly take some of his pain away. 

It turned out spectacularly. Sometimes Stiles would find himself zoning out during the day just to stare a the designs, tracing a finger along them, a small smile on his face.

*

On the next full moon, after Stiles was covered in scrapes and dirt from rolling around with the wolves, a henley just a bit too large for him hanging over his lithe frame, Derek proposed.

They ditched the big ceremony idea, going to the courthouse to sign the marriage papers a week later, and then straight to the tattoo parlor, one last time. 

They got identical matching ring bands, curved in a Celtic fashion, on the fourth finger on their left hands. 

By then, Stiles had become much acquainted with the tattoo artist, and the man waived the fee, saying it was enough to watch him as a young boy grow up and meet someone who would stand with him forever. To call is a wedding gift for the two of them. Stiles hugged him tight in a thank you. 

Derek had hissed the moment his started healing, so Stiles gripped his hand tight and sped home, where the blowtorch was waiting to make it a permanent mark against Derek's skin. 

That night, they laid awake together, legs tangled, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, lips roaming over tingling skin anywhere within reach, inked back pressed against inked chest, hands intertwined, rings clinking together silently. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at redhoodedwolf


End file.
